


Through The Frame

by TheLovelyLadyAuthor



Category: Ib (Video Game)
Genre: Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Post-Canon, Romance, Ten Years Later, Years Later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-30 20:27:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19410778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLovelyLadyAuthor/pseuds/TheLovelyLadyAuthor
Summary: Ten years after Ib's journey through the gallery, she winds up back, and discovers there may be a chance to return, and save her old friend.





	1. The Childhood Nightmare

Ib awoke with a jolt, looking around her darkened, quiet room. She took a deep breath and glanced at the clock, registering the time and deciding to get up. She wiped a hand across her forehead silently, wiping away the moisture that had accumulated from her terrifying nightmare.

Of course it was about the paintings in the gallery, it was always about the paintings in the gallery.

Every night for the past ten years it had always been the same. At first she thought the paintings had just disturbed her, but, over time she had realized that they were memories.

This realization made her miss Garry, the kind-hearted man who had covered her with his coat and given her a lemon candy when she was scared.

The man who had protected her through the horrors of the gallery.

The man who had traded his rose for hers.

“Ib? Ib, sweetheart, are you awake?” Her mother’s voice called from the other side of the door as she knocked, causing Ib to sigh and climb out of bed.

“Yes, I’m up, mum.” Ib responded, smoothing out the creases on her red night gown before walking to the door and pulling it open, giving her mother a light smile.

Of course her mother and father knew nothing about Ib’s nightmares, or what happened in the gallery. It’s not like they’d believe her if she told them anyways.

“We have a surprise for you, Ib!” Her mother announced excitedly, and it was then that Ib noticed the pamphlet in her mother’s hands.

“Oh? What is it?” Ib questioned cautiously.

“Well, we remembered how much you liked it when we went, so now that the exhibit is back in town, we’re going to go back and see it! So get dressed, we want to get there early.”

Ib’s mother pressed the pamphlet into Ib’s hands before stepping back and closing the door, leaving her nineteen year old daughter standing there, frozen in shock at her mother’s words, dread seeping through her as her deep scarlet eyes glanced down at the paper in her hands.

_Weiss Guertena Exhibit._

The teenage girl was deadly silent for a moment, before she sucked in a shaky breath and dropped the pamphlet, letting it flutter down gently to the floor.

Ib stared at it for a moment before she took a deep breath, pulling herself together. She shook her head, turning around and walking to the curtains, pulling them open and looking into her large backyard, which was surrounded by large trees.

 _You always knew this might happen, you always knew it might come back_ , she thought to herself, her eyes burning slightly as she pressed her palms to her windowsill, trying to steady herself.

She remained for a moment before pushing herself back and straightening up, looking towards the closet that held her clothes. Hesitating for a moment, Ib slowly approached it, pulling the doors open and finding the one outfit from her childhood she’d never allowed her mother to take away.

A white button up shirt, red skirt, and a red neck scarf that was tied neatly around the collar. Ib could see the red shoes that no longer fit resting on the floor, in the corner of the closet.

Ib looked at the clothes thoughtfully, before pulling her nightgown over her head and grabbing her undergarments and pulling them on, then she turned her attention to her closet.

Reaching up, Ib thought for a moment before pulling down a white button up shirt that fit her frame snugly and pulling it on, gently doing up the buttons before she pulled out a red skirt, much like the one she wore the first time she went to the exhibit.

Something about the outfit just felt right to her, so she pulled on knee high black socks and a pair of red dress shoes. She looked over at the childhood outfit thoughtfully, before gently pulling off the scarf.

Ib regarded the smaller outfit carefully as she tied the silk scarf in the same style she wore the first time she visited the gallery. She thought about the candy she never touched, the one that she knew resided in the pocket of the smaller red skirt.

“Perhaps this is as good a day as any to eat it… I wonder if its still good…” Ib mumbled thoughtfully to herself as she stretched out a hand and dipped it into the pocket of the skirt.

Her fingers grazed the hard circular shape of the candy, but also something else.

It was softer, it felt almost plant like. Ib frowned, it couldn’t be her rose. That had disappeared when she entered the real world once more. Or, at least, she thought it had. She hadn’t really checked her pockets to make sure.

Pulling the item out of the pocket, Ib gasped and almost dropped it as she realized what it was. A stem, a rose stem, with dark green leaves and small thorns. There were no petals.

_Garry’s rose._

Tears welled up in Ib’s eyes as she held the rose close to her face, attempting to take in what little scent the rose might have left. Thought there was no rose sent, just a soft hint of some dark, musky cologne.

Ib opened her eyes, remembering the smell from the few times she had hugged the tall man around his waist. Garry’s cologne filled her with a warm feeling. It was then that her eyes landed on the small piece of a petal that still clung to the stem.

Her eyes widened as her fingers grazed it. Mary must have torn the petal incompletely. _Which would mean that Garry wasn’t…_

The nineteen year old girl spun around and raced to her bedside table, tearing open the drawer and beginning to search for things. She wasn’t planning on going back into that world this time without the right supplies.

But, would she even be able to get back? Of course she would, she’d make it happen. She’d get back to Garry. She’d heal his rose. She’d save him. She’d bring him back.

This time, she wouldn’t leave the fabricated world without him.


	2. The Guertena Exhibit

Ib was quiet as she stood on the steps of the Art Gallery with her parents walking ahead of her. She was staring up at the vaguely familiar building with hesitation in her deep eyes.

“Honey, come on, what are you waiting for?” Her mother asked as she turned and noticed her daughter halted a few steps down. Ib glanced up, snapping out of her thoughts and nodding, following her mother into the gallery.

Everything seemed to collapse down on Ib at once, as soon as she stepped through the doors. It was entirely the same as the first time, she knew that every piece would be in exactly the same spot.

Not even bothering to tell her parents she was going to go look, she walked past where they were standing with their backs to her at the front desk, and walked up the stairs. Ib immediately walked swiftly, trying her hardest not to run, to the sculpture of the rose.

One she reached the tall, gleaming rose that was seated in the same spot as it was ten years ago, she finally stopped, her eyes looking it over slowly.

_Embodiment of Spirit._

Ib blinked slowly, before turning around, though, as she did, her eyes caught something down at the end of the hall she just came down. She turned, squinting, trying to focus on it from a distance.

It looked different, she vaguely remembered there was a different painting in that spot before. It was called… The Hanged Man, if Ib remembered correctly. Slowly, cautiously, Ib strode down the hall, passing a few others who were admiring the headless mannequins and the odd couch.

The young girl stopped in front of the frame that once belonged to The Hanged Man. The picture now depicted a familiar lavender haired young man, slumped over, face peaceful as if sleeping.

Ib remembered this. She remembered thinking, promising herself, that Garry was just sleeping. That he’d get out, that he’d meet her on the other side.

Though he never did.

Reaching up, Ib pressed her hands to her eyes as they filled with tears, though she forced them away quickly, knowing now was not the time to cry. She had the opportunity to save Garry. If she could only find a way back.

Slowly, Ib turned around, looking back down to the end of the hall where she had just been. She moved slowly down it once again, trying to retrace her steps that she took the first time.

Her hand brushed against the small bag that held supplies she had gathered, though not a lot as she didn’t want her parents to question the objects she brought. She knew which painting she had to go to, The Fabricated World.

She reached it, her eyes not looking up to the mural as they lingered on the title placed below. Ib remembered how she hadn’t been able to read it when she first came here.

Ib had looked up the title of many Guertena works as they years went by, so she could know the names she couldn’t read when she was younger. Embodiment of Spirit and The Fabricated World were two such paintings.

Her blood went ice cold as she looked up at the mural, the familiar artwork staring back at her. The lights flickered, causing Ib’s scarlet eyes to widen as she spun around, looking to each side.

 _It’s happening, it’s happening… it’s dragging me back in…_ Ib thought rapidly, stumbling back until she felt the wall press against her back. _No, I have to go forward, I have to find Garry…_

She pushed herself off the wall and started to walk, back the way she came and back down to the front lobby, the halls empty and void of all other life besides her. Ib looked down the big hall to the Abyss of the Deep floor sculpture before turning back to the door.

The door was where she came through when she escaped, and Garry wasn’t far from the exit.

There was no way she was doing all the puzzles and all that hell again. Running to the door, Ib ignored the way the lights darkened as she knelt down, opening her bag and pulling out the lock pick.

She had learned to use a lock pick when she was younger, as nightmares of puzzle doors and being trapped in horrifying rooms made her never want to face a locked door again.

Stepping back as the lock made a click, she stood up with a light, satisfied smile.

Pressing her palms against the glass, she pushed the door open and stepped into the familiar black and red hallway. This was when she broke into a sprint, picking up speed as she ran down the corridor and up the flight of stairs.

Reaching the room at the top, Ib sprinted out of it, beginning to shake as she looked around. She was back in the sketchbook. She remembered this. She remembered where she left Garry.

Taking a deep breath, she dipped her hand into her pocket, feeling her rose in there, like where she had left it in her other skirt those ten years ago.

Ib opened the top flap of her messenger bag and looked inside, her eyes landing on the rose stem.

“Don’t worry, Garry… I’m going to get you out. It’s my turn to save you.” Ib whispered to herself, closing the messenger bag once more and trying to ignore the mocking tune that filled the air as she rounded the house, her eyes landing on the vase filled with water.

Ib’s heart filled with joy as she ran forward, pulling the stem from the bag and holding it over the vase.

She paused, as, slowly, dread crept in and filled her thoughts, _what if it didn’t work? What if too long had passed and Garry was gone? No, don’t think like that, don’t you dare think like that…_

Taking a deep breath, she dipped the stem of the rose into the water, allowing it to sit. Staring with wide eyes, Ib waited for a moment, hope slowly draining from her, before the rose suddenly bloomed, vibrant blue petals once again adorning the previously wilted stem.

Ib let out a soft cry of happiness as she snatched the rose back up, clutching it close to her chest as tears of happiness welled up in her eyes.

Once she had collected herself, she placed her own rose in just to be safe, before she tucked them both safely into her messenger bag and headed up the path.

She walked up and stopped outside the small crayon house with the yellow heart on the door.

“Don’t worry, Garry, I’ll make sure you get out this time…”

Ib whispered this to herself confidently before she pushed open the door.


	3. The Subject of the Forgotten Portrait

Ib’s heart was hammering in her chest as she entered the small house, making her way through it and down the stairs, ignoring the door with the vines that had regrown over it.

She hesitated, clutching the beautiful blue rose close to her as she walked slowly down the steps, fear coursing through her veins as she worried. What if he wasn’t there when she walked around the corner? What if he was gone?

Taking a deep breath, Ib paused at the corner before walking around it, eyes shut tightly. She didn’t hear anything, no movement, which only caused her to worry more.

Slowly, she peeked an eye open, and saw something that made her both happy and scared.

Garry was sitting, slumped against the wall, in the same position she had left him in all those years ago. Ib was happy he was still there, but, also scared, because he wasn’t moving like he should be. She healed his rose, so why wasn’t he alive?

Ib stood still for a second, before she broke out in a sprint, darting over to Garry and kneeling by his side, dropping the blue rose beside the two of them as she clutched his arm.

She studied him, looking for any sign of life from the lavender haired man. She studied the soft colour of his hair, the gentle lines of his face, the fullness of his eyelashes. Her eyes roamed over his tattered dark blue coat that she remember him covering her with when she was small.

“Garry? Garry, wake up, come on… Garry?” Ib whimpered, tugging on his coat sleeve, trying to shake him enough to jolt him back up.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she saw no movement from Garry, causing her heart to crush slightly inside of her.

Biting her lip, she threw her leg over his lap to straddle him and clutched the front of his jacket, pulling his body forward and shaking him, tears falling down her pale cheeks as she sobbed softly. Leaning forward, she pressed her forehead against Garry’s, her hands still clenching his coat.

“Garry! Garry, please, wake up! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry I left you here! I didn’t mean to! Garry! Garry please wake up!” Ib cried, eyes tightly closed as she pressed her face against Garry’s cheek.

She let out a choked sob as the reality of the hopelessness of the situation set down on her. Garry wasn’t going to wake up. She was too late in getting back. There was no hope.

Ib was shaking as she let her emotions show, tears pouring down her cheeks, before her breath caught in her throat as Garry shifted below her, a shaky breath sounding from him.

She leaned back, staring at him quietly in shock as Garry’s dark eyes fluttered open, confusion filling them as they flickered up to land on Ib’s face.

“Who are… Ib…?” Garry’s face flashed with bewilderment as he took in the appearance of the girl who was straddling him. “You look like Ib, but… Ib’s just a little girl… wait, where’s Mary? What happened?”

Ib giggled weakly as she leaned forward, wrapping her arms around Garry’s neck and pulling him closer to her, causing Garry to flush a deep red.

“It’s all okay… I have a lot to explain, I know. It’s been… it’s been ten years, Garry…” Ib whispered the last part, leaning back slightly to look at Garry’s wide eyed expression.

“…w-what do you mean it’s been ten years? I just… I j-just passed out… Mary took my rose. I just saw you minutes ago…” Garry stumbled over his words, simply causing Ib to smile slightly in relief, placing her hands on his cheeks and resting her forehead against his.

“I’m just so happy you’re okay… I didn’t know whether or not I’d be able to come back and save you… I was so worried you’d be gone forever.” Ib spoke softly in a reassuring voice.

Garry took a deep breath at her words, he could tell that this was the same Ib he knew, even though she looked different. The way she spoke, the way she moved, the faint smell of something sweet. It was surely her. He closed his eyes, relaxed, absentmindedly running his fingers through her long hair.

It was when she shifted on top of him that Garry’s eyes opened wide once more, realizing the position she was in and causing his face to flush once again. He looked both ways down the corridor.

“Are we safe here…? Mary is gone?” Garry looked up at her curiously, swallowing nervously as his eyes met hers. Ib nodded her head.

“Yes, when you… when I saw that she’d plucked the petals off your rose I… I came back. I thought you were sleeping… I was very naive, but, I took your lighter and burned her painting. Oh, that reminds me…”

Ib paused, reaching into the bag at her side and pulling out the familiar silver lighter and offering it with an outstretched hand to Garry.

“I refilled it with fuel when I got back to the real world… it just felt right to do…” Ib spoke softly, and Garry’s expression softened as he reached out to gently take the lighter back from her hand.

“Thank you, Ib… that was very sweet of you. I just, I can’t believe you…” Garry trailed off, feeling his face getting heated once more.

The young brunette blinked curiously at Garry, frowning slightly at his words.

“You can’t believe I what? I don’t understand?” Ib tilted her head curiously at him, causing Garry to smirk lightly, looking down at the ground, which was somewhat hard to do with Ib on his lap.

“I just… can’t believe you came back for me. I wanted you to get out, it didn’t matter to me in the end whether or not I got out or not. I just wanted to make sure you survived… and you can back for me? I just… why?”

Garry was looking at her curiously. He watched the way her beautiful scarlet eyes widened at his question. He examined her outfit, very similar to the one he remembered her wearing.

Ib leaned back, her surprised expression fading into a soft smile.

“You saved my life, Garry. I felt it was about time I saved yours. I thought there was no hope, but, I found your rose stem in the pocket of my old skirt. That was when I knew… I could save you.”

Garry felt his heart flutter slightly at Ib’s words as he looked up and saw the sincerity in her wide eyes.

“I… t-thank you, Ib…” Garry smiled slightly, before his eyes – or the one eye that was showing through his hair – lit up. “So, you know the way out? We could get back to the real world?”

Ib blinked before nodding her head, a smile crossing her face.

“Yes, of course we can get out, come on, I know the way!” Ib exclaimed, leaping off of Garry and to her feet, reaching down to grab his hand, pulling the taller man to his feet. “Oh, don’t forget this!”

Ib reached down and plucked the blue rose she had dropped to the ground and handed it to Garry, who took it slowly with a slightly trembling hand, before he looked up at Ib.

He felt his heartbeat quicken as Ib threw him an excited smile before she squeezed his hand, pulling him down the hall, up the stairs, out of the small house and into the rest of the sketchbook.

It was then that Garry and Ib froze as a voice echoed in a sweet, melodic, singing tune.

_“Welcome to my world that’s painted with sadness, there’s no light of sun and you can’t hear any sound at all. Here I’m waiting silently for you, father, why were you so cruel? Why’d you leave Mary alone?”_

Garry and Ib turned to stare at each other with wide eyes, before they spoke at the same time, their tone filled with dread.

“Mary.”


End file.
